If I Fell
by LadyLaufeyson1
Summary: Pretty, hot-tempered secretary Sif and pompous, arrogant, son-of-the-boss Loki are working together in office on NYC's Madison Ave. in the 1960s. This should be interesting. (Mad Men inspired AU)
1. Chapter 1

She was standing in the doorway of her tiny, sad excuse for an office when she caught sight of him heading down the hallway in her direction; the boss's arrogant, insufferable son and head copywriter. He was as charming as he was conceited, always vying for his brother's job above him, never satisfied with his own work (which was, as much as it pained her to admit, usually brilliant). As a simple secretary who wanted the same job as him for several years, she wanted to hate him, and it would be easy to, if he wasn't so attractive. This was a thought, however, that she intended on keeping to herself - forever.

"Don't," she pleaded, holding her hand up at him as soon as he crossed the threshold into the room. His brilliant smile rapidly faded as she shook her head, taking a lengthy drag of her cigarette, her keen eyes scrutinizing him. It had been weeks since she had seen him last, and even though she was (secretly) pleased by the fact that he was back in town, she was too tired and too irritated to censor her current thoughts. "Spare me one day of your gloating. Just because your father owns the company, doesn't mean you're any more qualified for your job than I am. I'm tired of hearing about your triumphs and troubles when I'm down here, slaving away, not making nearly half of what you do."

And there it was. The words she had been thinking for years, suddenly spilling out of her mouth uncontrollably.

Loki frowned. He was used to her berating, and he usually deserved it (even liked it on occasion), but not this time. He cleared his throat and shuffled in place for a moment, his eyebrows raised, his face stern. "I agree."

"Excuse me?" she replied dumbly after a moment, trying to confirm that the words that he had said were not, in fact, you're fired.

"I agree," he repeated quietly, sadly, dropping an empty box he had brought with him onto her floor callously. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and shrugged, unable to look at her. "I simply came here to tell you that you've been promoted to copywriter. You start Monday."

It took her several moments to process, but the severe look he gave her now implied it wasn't a joke. She was speechless.

"I thought I'd help you move your things but since you're so repulsed by my presence, I'm sure you'd much rather handle it on your own," he stared down at her, his voice growing colder with each passing second.

He had missed her the past couple of weeks. When he had gotten the news about her promotion on the day of his return, he was more than happy to be the one to tell her. Now he found himself sorry he came at all.

"I don't want any favors from you," she said as she took another drag, mentally slapping herself for continuing to be so inexcusably rude to him, but she couldn't help it. She kept wondering how many women he had been with during his trip to L.A., and it boiled her blood.

"Believe me," he spat as he leaned over her, his voice deepening angrily, the pulsing vein in his neck prominent. "It wasn't my call."

Her heart sank at his cold admission, but the sting of his tone was softened by the intoxicating, distracting smell of his musky aftershave. She looked up into his eyes, her gaze hesitantly wandering down to his adam's apple. She found herself wanting to wrap her arms around his neck to loosen his tie just a bit, but her reverie was interrupted as he angrily turned on his heel to leave.

"Loki, I'm sorry, I-," she caught him by the arm before he could go, but he violently shrugged her off and stormed off down the hall, yelling back as he did so.

"It's good to see you too, Sif."


	2. Chapter 2

"You should have seen his face. I actually felt sorry for a minute."

"You're so cold sometimes, Sif," Jane scolded, shaking her head while taking another swig of her dirty martini. "He's not as bad as you think he is."

"Oh please, he deserved it," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "The man hasn't stopped giving me eyes since day one, maybe now he'll give it a rest."

"Maybe it's because he likes you?"

"He likes anything with tits that walks, Jane. He'll get over it."

"Speak of the devil," Jane mused, looking over towards the entrance of the crowded bar. There, walking in with his mistress of the hour, was Loki Odinson, accompanied by his brother Thor and several other of Sif's coworkers trailing in loosely behind them. Just the day prior, Loki had informed Sif of a promotion, but she hadn't received the news gracefully. The two had worked together in semi-close quarters at an ad agency for a while, and Sif, while attracted to him, was dead tired of his ego and playboy reputation.

"You didn't."

"I didn't know they were coming here, honest!" Jane said a little too apologetically as she waved them over, standing from the booth to kiss Thor. Sif groaned.

"Hello darling," Thor said, wrapping his arms around Jane and returning the kiss enthusiastically. "Sif! Congratulations on your promotion! I apologize that I've known for weeks and haven't been able to tell you. The company is lucky to have you, well deserved!"

"Thank you, Thor," Sif smiled. He was nothing like his brother. He was warm, exceptionally kind, and an all-around gentleman. Even if she did have to endure an evening making small talk with unwanted company, it made her feel better to know that Thor would be around to make things a bit less awkward.

"Hello Loki, Lorelei," Jane waved, peeking behind her boyfriend at the two of them. "Won't you sit with us? There's plenty of room!"

"I'm going to get a drink," Loki said, throwing his coat carelessly onto the seat of the booth, his cold eyes fleetingly catching Sif's. _Still mad_ , she thought. _Good._

"He's just so handsome, isn't he?" Lorelei said enthusiastically as she took a seat, her breasts practically spilling out of her low-cut blouse onto the table. She watched him go over to the bar, staring at him like he walked on water.

"More like a nightmare," Sif grumbled, finishing off the rest of her whiskey sour in one long go.

Jane kicked her under the table. _Be_ _nice_ , she mouthed.

Lorelei was Loki's latest personal assistant. Sif knew damn well there was one reason alone he hired her and it wasn't for her brain. Lord only knew what went on in that office after hours - or even worse, _during_ them.

"So, uh, Lorelei, how do you like working for Loki?" Jane asked, trying hard to make conversation with this girl she had virtually nothing in common with. "It's been a few months now, right?"

"Oh," Lorelei said with the most nauseatingly wide grin Sif had ever seen. "It's wonderful. He is _such_ a gentleman."

"Oh, look," Sif said sardonically, standing up before she had to hear another word. "My drink is empty."

"I'll get you another," Thor said kindly, ever the gentleman.

"No, thank you," she said, suddenly more determined to fix the awkwardness for the sake of her friend and a better evening. She knew that she'd have to confront Loki sooner or later and she figured she might as well do it with a few drinks in her. "I have to use the restroom anyway."

As she walked into the bathroom to freshen up her lipstick, she couldn't help but overhear a conversation two sinks down.

"Did you see who was at the end of the bar?"

"I know, _Loki Odinson!_ Those brothers are even better looking in person."

"They say he has a reputation though."

"Who cares? What I wouldn't do for a night with _that_."

Sif's blood began to boil. She bit down on some tissue to blot her lips and chucked it into the wastebasket forcefully, unable to get out of there fast enough. Was there no place she could escape him?

She smoothed out her purple dress, fluffed her hair a bit more and took a deep breath before making her way over to where he still stood at the bar. She slowed before reaching him, suddenly bombarded by the same strong urge to touch him that she had felt the day before. She hung back for a minute, watching as he loosened his neck tie and ran his long fingers through his slicked back hair. _Get a damn hold of yourself,_ she thought.

The bartender smiled as he saw her approach and she smiled back sheepishly as she slunk into the empty stool next to where he stood.

"What can I get for you, darlin'?"

"Uh, another whiskey sour, please," she said exasperatedly, rummaging with shaky hands through her messy purse in desperate search of her wallet and lighter.

"And another old fashioned," Loki murmured out of the corner of his cigarette filled mouth, pulling out a large, crisp bill and slapping it on the counter. Sif rolled her eyes.

"I'm perfectly capable of paying for my own drink, thank you very much."

"I'm sure you are," he said flatly, cocking an eyebrow while passing his lighter over to put an end to her incessant search for one. "I'm just afraid you'll never find what you're looking for in there."

She scoffed as she hid her messy bag from him and grabbed the lighter.

"You smoke more than any other broad I know."

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

"No judgment here," he said, holding his hands up in defense. "I'm quite the chimney myself."

"Look, I don't want to dance around this," she said, still avoiding his gaze for the sake of her sanity. "I love my friend. And I don't want this evening to be ruined because of me, so, I guess I'm sorry for the way I acted yesterday."

"What an apology," he said sarcastically.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you," she continued, ignoring his tone. "Pete was on me all day about incorrect allocations and reimbursements. I can't properly allocate if people aren't giving me their damn receipts." _And there's also the fact that I was cranky the entire time you were gone and I missed you and I have no idea why._

"Want me to fire him?"

"No," she said, laughing as she took a long drag. "And thank you, by the way. For the job."

"It really wasn't my doing. Though I've been telling father for some time that you're more than qualified."

Sif smiled at his words, but as soon as she glanced up at him, she regretted her decision to do so. Instead of looking at her, Loki was busy waving to a pretty blonde who was smiling at him at the other end of the bar.

"Excuse me," Sif said, forcefully grabbing her drink and tossing the rest of it back. "I think I see someone I know."

Loki furrowed his brow in confusion at her sudden need to get away from him. Before he could say anything, she was already halfway across the room.

Sif walked away as quickly as she could and grabbed the nearest random guy, dragging him out onto the dance floor next to Thor and Jane. She was grateful that it was smoky and crowded enough so that no one would be able to see the hurt look on her face (although Jane very much did). It didn't seem to matter who or what Loki was; she clearly felt something for him and this was getting dangerous.

Loki watched her out of the corner of his eye. He tightened his grip on his tumbler as the strange man wrapped his arms around her waist. To keep himself from doing something stupid, he walked back to where the rest of his coworkers sat and offered his hand to Lorelei. It was always easier when he pretended not to care, and his way of doing so was by cavorting with other women. They filled the screaming void momentarily, but since there was only one face he ever saw, the void always came right back.

Loki was an exceptional dancer, which only made Sif angrier. The two danced closer to where she was, much to her dismay. She watched as his hands moved delicately down Lorelei's sides to her waist, his long fingers hovering at the small of her back as he pulled her against him. She had to look away.

The second she did, Loki's eyes wandered over to her. He swallowed, forcing himself to count to ten each time the man touched a different part of her or whispered something into her ear.

The man, Sif decided, was getting entirely too close for comfort. Slow dancing was one thing, but his lips were starting to graze her neck and ears, making her very uncomfortable. Before she had the chance to protest, she turned in surprise to find Loki at her side, his nostrils flaring, that same vein pulsing in his neck. He looked murderous.

"Dance with me?" he said, his eyes intensely fixed on hers. She could tell he was trying very hard to focus on her alone to keep his cool .

"Sure pal, when I'm done with her," the guy winked, "man to man" at Loki, forcing Sif closer to him.

"Oh," Loki said, grabbing him by the shirt collar, shoving him violently as he stepped in front of Sif protectively. "You're done with her."

"Well, that escalated quickly," Jane murmured out of the corner of her mouth to Thor, neither one of them moving to stop the scenario that was unfolding. Thor smiled.

"Hey man," the guy said, holding up his hands defensively. "I don't want any trouble."

"Then find another partner, and you won't have any."

The man waved them off as he staggered away and Loki turned back to her, his concern apparent.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said gratefully, sighing as she crossed her arms against her chest. She felt stupid. "I owe you one."

Loki glanced back at the man. As Sif looked up at him she recognized all too well the expression that he wore; jealousy. It was the same way she looked whenever he was with another woman, and she knew it. As he looked back at her, his face softened and his eyes turned from hard to kind. It was the first time they had both really looked at one another all evening.

"You are _beautiful_ ," he whispered, barely audible, in a way that sounded much more like a statement of fact rather than a come on. It was as if the words were meant for him alone to hear. He smiled down at her and held out his hand hopefully as the slow, smooth voice of Jo Stafford came over the jukebox.

She suddenly had to remind herself to breathe. The second she took his hand, some strange emotion hit her. He felt it too. There was something very familiar about her touch. It was like coming home after being away for a very long time.

As he gently placed his other hand on her back, she moved in closer to him, their faces just inches apart. The smell of his aftershave on his skin was intoxicating, and she closed her eyes, savoring everything about being so close to him. She could feel his heart pounding, or was it hers? This felt far too right to be wrong.

"Are you still angry with me?" she whispered as soon as she caught her breath.

"No," he said, smiling against her ear. And he wasn't. He was far too elated by her closeness to care about anything else.

"You might want to get back to your date then," she laughed, suddenly feeling sorry for the girl he walked in with.

"Lorelei?" he replied incredulously, reaching to place her hand against his chest. "Definitely not a date."

"Well, she seems to think you're something special."

"Well," he said, turning his face toward hers, his eyes alight with mischief, his mouth bent into a half smile. "She would be right."

Sif laughed and leaned her forehead against his, letting his warm breath hit her lips. It was astounding how quickly any reservations she had about him abated when he was touching her. It was as if they had been lovers for years. _Ridiculous_ , she thought.

As the music slowed, the two hesitantly came apart. Loki pulled her hand up to his mouth and pressed his lips to the back of it. Something stirred deep within her.

"Would you like to go for a walk?" he said as he released her hand, hoping he wasn't asking for too much too soon. He knew she was always skeptical of his motives, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin the moment. He shoved his shaky hands into his pockets and looked at the ground, hoping she would say yes. He had never wanted anything more.

"Yes," she said, a little too eagerly, already missing the feel of his skin against hers.

"Wait here," he replied, beaming at her. "I'll just go grab our coats."

Sif nodded and watched him for a moment before turning towards her lurking friend who was silently screaming.

 _"Wow_ ," Jane said, her eyes wide. "That was something else."

"He's still perfectly awful," Sif said, trying to hide her smile.

"Uh-huh," Jane laughed, shaking her head. "You look like you just _hated_ that."

Sif watched as her friend's grin slowly turned sour at something happening behind her. Jane tried to distract her, but as soon as Sif turned around, she saw Loki in the far corner by their booth with the same blonde from the bar. She looked comfortable with her arms wrapped around his neck, her lips pressed against his cheek. Loki's smile was the worst part.

She turned to the closest table to grab her bag, not giving two damns about her coat, and started for the door.

"Sif!" Jane yelled, but she was already outside and running into the night before anyone could stop her.


	3. Chapter 3

Loki felt it the moment Sif had left. He whirled around anxiously, hoping that he was mistaken, hoping that his eyes would find hers somewhere in the heavy crowd, but she was nowhere to be found. Standing with her arms crossed in her friend's stead was Jane, tapping her foot, looking livid.

"What happened?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it had something to do with that leggy blonde you had your arms around!" she snapped angrily, throwing her arms in the air, practically hitting him in the face. "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

"It's not what you think, but I don't have time to explain," he said exasperatedly, running his fingers through his hair as he looked anxiously at the door. "Do you have any idea where she was going?"

"She went right," she sighed after a moment, realizing by the fear in his eyes that he was being sincere. "If she didn't get a cab home, she probably went to the park."

"Thanks."

* * *

Sif took off her heels and ran as fast as she could into the freezing night, hoping that if she ran long and hard enough she would forget all about Loki Odinson and the attractive blonde that he had his arms so comfortably around. It was all so predictable, and yet, for a brief moment, she had forgotten all about who he was and what he was. And in that brief, dangerous moment, as idiotic as it was and as much as it grieved her, she knew she had completely fallen for him.

By the time it even occurred to her to get a cab home, Sif found herself standing in a quiet, remote corner of Central Park. She bent down to put her shoes back on, moving her feet to improve the circulation in her frozen toes, swearing as she did so. She sighed as she reached into her bag for her lighter, hoping her cigarettes would stave off the cold a while longer, but she still couldn't seem to find the damn thing.

"What the HELL was I thinking?" she yelled angrily to no one as she tried to catch her breath, startling two nearby birds from their nests. Never before had a man had this much of an impact on her. Why did she care so much? His touch made her feel homesick for a place she had no idea she had been missing until now.

Suddenly, a pale green light flashed out of the corner of her eyes. She turned to get a better look, but nothing was there except for two black birds perched on top of a tall, bronze statue surrounded by several tall shrubs; something that you would miss entirely if you weren't looking for it.

Sif curiously made her way over to it, shivering as she looked up into the face of the tall, serious figure that seemed to be pointing in the direction of something of importance; something that wasn't there. She looked into his eyes, familiar eyes that felt as if they were staring into her soul. The faint orange glow from a nearby lamp post gave light to the plaque beneath his feet.

"Heimdall," she whispered inexplicably in awe as her fingers traced the outline of the words. "Keeper of the Bifröst Bridge."

 _Heimdall_. Sif had certainly heard that peculiar name before, somewhere, at some time. The name of the bridge also sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it either. She shivered, rubbing her arms vigorously to create warmth and then sat against the base of the statue. She watched her breath dance in front of her face as her thoughts turned back to Loki.

Sif had always been a fairly level-headed woman when it came to men. She could blame it on the fact that she was a workaholic, but none of the guys she had been with ever held her interest for very long. Truth be told, she didn't realize how much she didn't care for them until the day she first met Loki at the office. His stark blue eyes, kind yet dangerous. His casual yet cocky demeanor. His surprisingly gentle hand in hers the very first time they were introduced. Ever since that day he always looked at her the same, like she was the only woman in existence. But she had been delusional. She was nothing more than another one of his many conquests.

 _No!_ Something deep within her yelled. _He felt it too!_ But she quickly shook off the thought and wiped a tear angrily from her face. What she had said was true. He _was_ a prick that made an exorbitant amount of money for his position (as talented as he was) simply because his father owned the company. He was handsome, rich, he could have any girl he wanted - what did he want with her?

She knew that she was in serious trouble when it came to Loki. She also knew that if she stayed out much longer she would probably freeze to death, but, lost within her own thoughts, she couldn't will herself to move.

"I'm not sure where the Bifröst Bridge is," she whispered up to no one, shivering violently, vaguely feeling the need to doze off. "But I'd almost certainly rather be there than here."

* * *

Loki didn't know how he knew, but he sensed that Sif hadn't gone home. He ordered his driver to follow him as he walked the quickest route to the park, peering down alleyways, trying not to panic at the fact that it was below freezing and he was holding her coat and scarf in his hands. He yelled her name frequently, paying no mind to the odd looks he was getting from passing strangers. He eventually crossed the street, waving at his driver to stay put, his jog turning into a sprint as he headed down the nearest path into the park.

"Sif!" he yelled desperately, his voice becoming hoarse in the cold night air. He squinted in the dark to see if there was any sign of her or someone he could question, but there wasn't a soul in sight. He picked up the pace once more and continued down a dimly lit path, praying that he was going in the right direction.

Sif could no longer feel her fingers and toes. She knew this was probably a good sign to get herself up and back to a cab, but she found herself far too exhausted. She tried to force herself to stand, but the desire to sleep was much stronger. As soon as she sat back down she heard Loki calling for her, but the person that stepped out under the light of the nearby lamp post was not at all who she expected to see.

A tall, pale man clad entirely in a strange green, gold and black leather getup stood less than twenty yards in front of her, trying to catch his breath, his hands on his knees. His messy black hair fell just past his shoulders and the dark circles under his eerily familiar eyes made him look positively menacing. Sif ducked back into the shadows against the statue, peering out at him cautiously, curiously, feeling much more entranced than afraid. She knew that man.

Out of nowhere her head began to pound and her mind flooded with visions - far too many at once. She saw the flash of a rainbow bridge, a golden kingdom in the sky, a pale boy with dark hair pulling her into a kiss in the middle of a lush green meadow under an endless night sky. They fought countless battles both together and alongside one another. She remembered the boy, older now, making fierce love to her in that same broad meadow - but who was he? She could feel his long, cold hands gently caressing her sides, his lips expertly kissing her breasts. She could clearly see the pained yet amorous look in his eyes as he buried himself deep within her, but still, his name would not come.

"Sif? Sif are you here?"

The vision changed quickly. She saw the face of a metal robot in the middle of a desert. So many familiar faces in her mind now. Thor. Fandral. Hogun. Volstagg. Jane Foster. The names came to her quickly, but she could not remember his. She remembered their first goodbye. He fell, and she was never the same again. No one was. He returned from the dead changed, sad, reckless, locked away from her in a prison where she could not reach him. She pounded on the glass. He could not see her. He could not hear her. He never even knew she was there.

He was gone once more. When he returned in a way that was worse than the previous, it wasn't long before the sky fell. They were doomed. The golden kingdom was on fire. She remembered the man she loved and the hell he had caused, inadvertently or not, she couldn't remember. She saw Odin conversing with the mad titan that looked very much like the pile of rocks he tirelessly sought after; Thanos was his name. And he was the end.

Sif's eyes shot open. She found herself staring up at the same statue who seemed to be pointing at something more intently than before. She hazily followed the direction of his finger until her gaze fell upon the same man from her visions. Hours seemed to have just passed in what were actually seconds, for he was still standing there, winded, underneath the light of the same lamp post, no longer dressed in his peculiar leather garb. He was Loki Odinson, creative director at Borson & Sons.

Only he wasn't. He was Loki. Of Asgard. And she had loved him for hundreds of years.

" _Loki_ ," her eyes widened as she whispered his name in wonder, as if she were saying it for the first and yet the billionth time. She tried to pull herself up weakly using the statue's hand as leverage, her labored gasps for air breaking into sobs. Once she found her voice, she screamed for him like she had in the days when she thought he was dead. Like she had all of those nights he couldn't see her outside of his cell.

Loki's skin prickled. The sound of his name leaving her lips with such desperation unsettled something deep within him. He turned and ran as soon as he spotted her by the statue, catching her in his arms just before she collapsed. She was freezing.

"SIF!" he cried as he hastily tore off his coat and wrapped it tightly around her. He added her coat on top of it and placed the scarf quickly around her neck and ears. She stirred and sighed against him. "Hey, HEY," he cooed nervously, gently shaking her face in his hands as she began to nod off again. "Stay with me, darling. Stay with me."

He looked around frantically for help, but the park was still a ghost town. He picked her up effortlessly in his arms and held her tightly against his chest, bending down quickly to grab her bag before taking off in the direction of the car. She would be alright, he told himself as he ran. She had to be.

" _You found me_ ," she said quietly, beaming up at him through hazy eyes. It startled him. It was the happiest he'd ever seen her. Hell, it was just about the happiest anyone had ever been to see him. She looked different, peaceful even. She hadn't had _that_ much to drink, he thought, unless she was toting a flask in her purse. He wouldn't put that past her.

"Damnit, Sif," he said angrily, his nostrils flaring as his eyes watered. She was frightening him. "No more running off, alright?"

"Hmm, no, that's your job, _silver-tongue_ ," she smiled as she rested comfortably against him, her hand weakly reaching up to playfully pull down on his tie. "Midgard suits you."

 _Silver-tongue?_ _Midgard?_ Loki would have stopped dead in his tracks if not for the harrowing circumstances. The names strongly resonated with him, but he could not place them. His brow furrowed. What did she mean that was his job? _She's delirious from the cold,_ he thought. He ran even faster.

When they finally reached the road, he set her down gently on the sidewalk and held her up by her waist with one arm, waving his driver frantically over with the other. He glanced down at her, grateful that she seemed a bit more alert albeit sad and seemingly lost in thought.

Her eyes watered as she reached up to place a hand on his cheek, pulling his forehead against hers, her lips inches away from his. He found her again. But why were they here? On Midgard? In these strange clothes, in this strange city... where were the others? She remembered the destruction of Asgard, but the very end was unclear now. She opened her mouth, but words failed her. She didn't care. They were together again.

Loki swallowed as her eyes intensely searched his and her fingers snaked through his hair, but he did not budge. She had never looked at him or touched him in such an intimate way. It was paralyzing.

"Sir?"

"Blast the heat," Loki said quietly to the driver who was waiting for instruction. He looked at her for one long moment, brushing his thumb gently against her lips before hesitantly breaking away.

They quickly helped her into the warmth of the car and Loki climbed in beside her, covering her with several tartan blankets he found in a neat pile on the floor. He tried hard not to think about the way she had just been looking at him.

Sif's head began to pound. Any of the visions that came to her quickly faded as the warm air swept over her. Before she had time to react, to be sad or afraid at the thought of losing Loki, of losing her past once more, it was all gone. She remembered the bar, she remembered the blonde, she remembered nearly freezing to death in Central Park. She remembered no more.

"To the hospital. Fast as you can," Loki ordered as he ran his fingers anxiously through his hair, watching her slump against the window.

"No," she coughed, conscious enough to be embarrassed for the commotion she was causing. She didn't know much at that moment, but she knew she preferred her own bed over a hospital one. "I'd like to go home. Please."

"Sif, I really think you need-"

"Please," she repeated, her worn out gaze finally meeting his. His stomach turned as he looked at her tired eyes, her pale skin, her beautiful lips faintly tinted a pale blue. What would have happened to her if he didn't reach her when he did? He couldn't think about it.

His jaw tightened then relaxed as he stared at her. If she had been anything like the way she was just ten minutes ago he wouldn't have thought twice to listen to her, but her general demeanor was much more pragmatic, so he decided to cut her a deal.

"The only way I'm taking you home is if you agree to a house call from my doctor. I'm certain he can be there within the hour."

"Fine," she said, defeated, trying to sound grateful though her tone was thoroughly annoyed. She stared out the window and crossed her aching arms, feeling like she had just been hit by a train. He had probably just saved her life, but all she could think about was what transpired at the bar.

"Fine," Loki nodded, silently wondering if he too needed a doctor.


	4. Chapter 4

Sif said nothing to Loki as she turned on the lights in her apartment. She wanted him to leave, to let her wallow alone in the completely disastrous evening, but she knew he'd insist on having her examined by the doctor. There was no use wasting what little energy she had left arguing about it.

She kicked off her heels before trudging down the hall, dropping the jackets and the rest of her things onto a nearby armchair. She was silently pleased that she had just recently decided to clean her place. The situation at hand was embarrassing enough without her apartment looking like a complete hellhole. She could only imagine what someone like Loki thought of her tiny abode, someone who was used to living in luxury. Luckily, she was far too exhausted to care.

"Tea?" she asked groggily, practically knocking into him as she turned.

"Ah, no. Sit. Please," he replied, gesturing towards the couch, grabbing a white fur blanket off of a chair for her.

"Thank you."

"Your phone is-?"

"Just there," she said, pointing to a nearby end table. "There's also bourbon underneath the dry sink. Help yourself."

Loki nodded, forcing himself not to stare at her. He kept replaying the way she looked at him in the park over and over again in his mind, as if she had never been happier to see anyone. He longed for that same smile again, longed for her arms around his neck, for her warm breath against his ever-cold skin. Still, he felt himself relax at the sight of her snuggled underneath the blanket with some color back on her cheeks. This wasn't the way he wanted the night to go and it certainly wasn't how he fantasized about being invited into her apartment, but as long as she was going to be alright, truly nothing else mattered.

Sif listened to Loki berate the doctor for several minutes for not being able to get to the apartment sooner. He could be so cold sometimes. She usually only ever witnessed him in a good mood was when he was busy flirting or when they were conversing, which usually went hand in hand. He was a professional kiss-ass, a showman who put on a smile when he had to for the occasional client, but she realized then that she rarely ever saw him truly happy. He was an enigma - an undeniably attractive one.

"He should be here within the hour," Loki said irritably as he hung up, pouring himself a glass of the bourbon and throwing it back in one go before refilling it again. "In the meantime, he says it's best to draw you a hot bath."

"That's really not necessary," she replied quickly, though she very much loved the idea of one. "I can do it myself."

"I know," he agreed. Still, he wanted desperately to show her that he was capable of taking care of her, of being someone other than the insufferable prick he knew she took him for. He _needed_ to show her. "It's no trouble. You won't even know I'm here."

 _Oh yes I will,_ she thought to herself. _The man I've countlessly pleasured myself to is standing in my apartment about to draw me a hot bath..._

She nodded. It wasn't like he was planning on joining her. Or Jesus, _was he_? Her face went hot at the thought. At least she was starting to warm up.

"Would you mind?" she said, nodding at the bottle of bourbon.

"Of course. Where are my manners."

"I'm never sure."

Loki smirked as he handed a glass to her, but his light expression faded as he suddenly noticed the painting on the wall behind her.

"That's a beautiful picture," he whispered, his brows furrowing at it. The odd familiarity of the place was paralyzing.

"Yes," she agreed as her eyes followed his to the snowy scene of a creek snaking through a dense pine forest beneath a blanket of stars and a rainbow colored aurora. "I found it leaning next to the dumpster one morning and couldn't bear to let it go. I think it's Norway."

"I believe the words at the bottom are Norwegian," he said, squinting to get a better look at the aged wooden frame. "So you would be correct."

" _Heimdall's_ _Bifröst_ ," she read, and the words made her shiver. They were words she had seen on the statue in the park. _That's_ where she remembered seeing them before. "I'm sure I'm not saying that right. Do you speak Norwegian?"

"Hardly, though I've had to learn some for my trips to Oslo."

"You've been?"

"Yes. My father was considering opening a branch there at one point."

"Really?" Sif stopped, inexplicably intrigued by this revelation.

"It's hardly a booming center for advertisement agencies. I suppose he wanted to be closer to our roots."

" _No_ ," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "You mean to tell me, _Loki Odinson_ is Norwegian?"

Loki smiled. "What gave it away."

"Why the british accent then?"

"I was born in Norway. I lived there for the first several years of my life, though I don't remember much. I have these vague memories of meadows, pine forests, skies full of the brightest and most colorful stars you've ever seen," he trailed off as he glanced up at the painting, his expression sad, as though he wished he remembered more. "We moved to London after, then to the states when I was eighteen."

Sif swallowed. The description of his memories stirred something within her and she felt sad. She suddenly wanted to ask about his mother, someone whom, according to various office rumors, had died when he was very young, though she knew better than to do so. "I would love to see that. It sounds lovely."

"Norway is beautiful."

" _G_ _od of Mischief_ , is it then?"

"Someone knows their Norse mythology."

"Very, very little."

"Ah, it's strange, I know," he smiled. It was highly odd that everyone in his family had been named for Norse gods. Even _he_ couldn't deny it.

"Well, I can't exactly make fun of you for it, can I?"

"I'm afraid not. I'm not well-versed in the mythologies either, though I do remember some. _Warrior goddess_ , is it?" he mused as he cocked an eyebrow at her, taking another swig of his drink. Sif's own Scandinavian name was just one of many, many things he found so intriguing about her. "I take it you're Norwegian as well then?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, lost within her own mind. "I had an accident several years back. I don't remember much before then. And apparently, I don't have any family to ask."

Loki looked over at her. Words rarely failed him. He too had trouble remembering bits of his past now and then, but at least he had a family, albeit a broken, dysfunctional one. "I'm so sorry, Sif. I had no idea."

"It's fine, honestly. It took a while to accept, but sometimes I think it's for the best. Maybe I was some horrible person before."

"That's not possible," he whispered as he shook his head, trying hard not to appear so sullen. He knew he didn't have the right to be.

Sif looked over at him and smiled. He had said it with such unquestionable sincerity that she almost believed him. She hadn't told anyone about her past before and she had no idea why she was now. Her attraction to him went way beyond physicality, something she had always known. There was something about him that made her want to pour every ounce of her soul out.

"Well," she said as she forced a smile, hoping to sound a bit more upbeat. "You don't meet too many people with names like ours. And yet, here we are."

"Here we are," he replied, in complete silent awe of her, as usual. "On the subject of names, what exactly is _silver-tongue_?"

"Beg your pardon?"

"Back in the park. You called me _silver-tongue_. Figured it was just another one of your disparaging remarks, but I had to be certain."

"I'm not sure," she replied, too distracted by the effect the name was having on her to be irritated by his comment. "I don't remember anything except for falling asleep by the statue and then waking up in your car."

"I thought as much."

"I think it means clever or persuasive," she added, confused as to how she knew that as she was certain she had never used the term in her life. Her head began to slightly ache again. "If I let you into my apartment after you seemed so keen on going home with someone else, _silver-tongue_ might actually suit you."

"Sif-" he interjected, eager to put an end to that argument once and for all.

"Mmm?"

"About the bar..."

"I don't want to know," she quickly interjected as she looked up at him tiredly, her tone void of any emotion. "It really doesn't matter."

Loki opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. It was clear that she wanted nothing to do with him, not in the way he'd hoped for at least, for the look she gave him now said it all. Maybe she was just trying to be nice at the bar, for Jane's sake. Maybe she ran out of there to get away from him in the first place. He returned the forced smile and refilled his glass, disappearing into the washroom before she could notice his distress.

But she noticed. Sif pulled the blanket closer and stared at the glass in her hands. He left the bar. He came looking for _her_. She didn't care much for the mystery blonde, or the obsessive bimbos fawning over him in the bathroom, but the latter wasn't even his fault and who the hell was she to be upset about any of it? Loki was never hers, she was _never_ his, and the bottom line was that he had probably saved her life. He didn't force her to make the irrational decision of running barefoot into the freezing night. No one would have seen her in that dark, shadowy corner of the park, but he did. Somehow, he found her.

Loki sat on a small stool and waited for her quaint little claw foot tub to fill, wishing there was a "reset" button for the ill-fated evening. He grabbed a bottle of bubble bath from a small table nearby and poured a few drops under the faucet, watching the bubbles grow in a trance. _What a night_ , he thought as he took a long swig of his bourbon. So many odd, inexplicable things had happened. His emotions had been taken to every possible extreme and yet, here he was, sitting in Sif's bathroom with a drink in one hand and a bottle of bubble bath in the other. What the hell was he doing?

Sif got up from the couch and peeked through the door, trying not to laugh at how ridiculous this tall man looked sitting on such a tiny stool. How did he even know how much bubble bath to use? She watched as he got up and stood with one hand on his hip, carefully testing the water temperature repeatedly with his fingertips. She stared at them a little longer than necessary.

When the bath had finally filled, Loki stood for a moment, picturing Sif laying against his chest in the water, the wet warmth surrounding them. He wanted to run his hands through her hair, wanted to bury his face in the nape of her neck and pry his name from her lips with his. _Don't be that man, for once_ , he thought. Still, he couldn't keep himself from wanting it. From wanting her. It was something he had tried to shut off for years. If it hadn't happened by now, it certainly wasn't going to happen in her apartment as he was filling her bathtub for her.

Sif slipped silently into the room and placed a lace nightie and white terrycloth bathrobe on the side table. Loki tried not to notice the nightie. He failed.

"Thank you."

"It's nothing," he responded quietly, wiping his wet hands on his slacks.

"It's not nothing," she said, placing a hand on the crook of his arm and turning him around to face her. "Thank you. For everything."

He nodded and stood frozen for a brief moment before gently breaking away from her grasp. He headed towards the door.

"Would you just-," Sif said hopefully as she turned her back to him, holding up her hair away from the clasp. "Would you help me out of my dress?"

Loki stopped and smiled to himself. Certainly he was being punished by some higher power. He was well overdue for his comeuppance, but this was far worse than anything he could've imagined. Still, he couldn't exactly be angry about it.

He nodded and walked back over to where she stood. As he reached slowly for the clasp, his fingers accidentally grazed her neck. They both jumped.

"Sorry," he apologized as he backed away, rubbing his hands together to create friction. "They're still a bit chilly, I'm afraid."

"Maybe you're the one in need of a warm bath," she said, smiling playfully at him.

 _More like a cold shower_ , he thought.

"There we are," he whispered as he carefully undid her zipper that spanned more than half the length of the dress, the backs of her see-through black bra and matching garter belt torturously bared to him.

"Thanks," she said as she whirled back around, holding the dress up over the front of herself to keep it from falling.

"Anything else?" he asked, anxiously shoving his hands into his pockets. _Please say no._

"No, you're off the hook."

Sif made the mistake then of glancing up, of catching Loki looking down at her as if she were the most beautiful, most precious thing he'd ever seen. She was fairly certain that he'd always looked at her in such a way, but for some reason, this time it was different. This time she was really seeing it. And he was beautiful to her like this - so transparent, so vulnerable. If he were to kiss her now, to ask to join her in the bath, to put his hands on her, she knew damn well that she would let him.

"Right," Loki whispered, forcing himself to look away from her. He reached up to loosen his tie that he suddenly felt was strangling him and turned, hoping that another drink and a few smokes might calm his nerves. "I'll just be outside if you need me."

 _I always need you..._ she screamed at him in her mind. _Please don't go..._

She simply smiled and nodded.

* * *

"Is she alright?"

"Could do with a bit of rest," the doctor replied, scratching the back of his head as he closed the door to Sif's bedroom behind him. "She'll be just fine. Lucky you got to her when you did."

"I'm not sure luck has anything to do with it," Loki said irritably. He took one long drag of his cigarette before leaning against the wall, stumbling ever so slightly.

"Are you okay, son?"

"Mmm," Loki replied dismissively, taking another swig of his bourbon. "One too many, I'm sure."

"I don't need to remind you of your condition, do I?"

Loki smiled sarcastically, raising his glass to the physician. "My heart is strong, Doc. No need to worry."

"In any case, I think I should examine you. You're not usually one to drink so much."

"I'm paying you to look after her, not me."

"I'll give you a two for one deal, how's that?" the man said, gesturing for Loki to sit.

The bedroom door opened and Sif came out, her robe wrapped tightly around her, her hair still damp. "Would you like some tea? A drink?" she said, smiling at the old man.

"He was just leaving, I'm afraid," Loki said through gritted teeth.

"Ma'am," the doctor said with a kind smile, lifting his hat to her. "Do take care of yourself."

"Thank you," Sif replied warmly, Loki's murderous expression not escaping her. "Let me see you out."

Loki leaned against the living room window and stared out at the orange glow of the lights on the street below. A heavier snow had started to fall at some point, lightly blanketing the ground. He loved the cold, dark winter months, for something always felt right about them. Something felt even more right watching the flakes come down in Sif's apartment. He felt a strong sense of peace, as if this was where he belonged. He always felt that way when she was around.

But that peace, as always, was not to last. As the doctor got into his car and pulled away, Loki watched curiously as another one pulled up in its place. A familiar red-head stepped out and fluffed her hair on the way up the walk to Sif's apartment. _No_ _,_ he thought.

"The doorbell is about to ring," Loki said frantically as soon as Sif walked back into the room. "Don't answer it."

"Why?" Sif asked, alarmed by his tone. She moved towards the window to have a look, but Loki stepped in front of her.

" _Please_."

Seconds later the doorbell did ring. Sif looked at him for a moment, and then to the door, unsure of what to make of his odd request.

And then it dawned on her. The guilty, desperate look on his face was all she needed to make her decision. She turned away from him and walked back down the hallway. Loki sat down and put his head in his hands.

As soon as she looked through the door, her heart sank. Lorelei.

"Hey darlin'," Lorelei beamed up at her, chewing her gum loudly as Sif swung open the door. "Is _Mr. Odinson_ here? "

 _Mr. Odinson_ , Sif thought. Is that what he made her call him when they were-

"Some of the guys from work said I might find him here."

"Oh _did_ they?"

"Uh-huh," she continued on, daft as anything. "I'm supposed to make sure he gets home alright. Part of the _job_ , you know."

"He has a driver, what do you mean _gets home alright?"_

"Well, _you know_ ," she laughed, as if the answer were completely obvious. "He doesn't exactly like to go home to a cold bed."

"Excuse me for a minute."

Sif slammed the door shut behind her and stalked down the hall, trying to calm the rage that was threatening to overcome her.

"Your other ride is here," she said, her hands shaking.

"I assure you," Loki said frantically, walking over to her. "I don't know why she came. She's been known to follow me places before and I-"

"No, YOU don't get to do that," Sif turned suddenly to him, her voice loud. Loki raised his hands in defense and backed against the wall as she got closer. "You don't get to make HERseem crazy. She's only doing what _you've_ asked, what you're _paying_ her for. Do you deny it?"

Loki clenched his jaw and stared at the ground, unable to look at her.

"You're disgusting," Sif said, shaking her head, her eyes watering. "Get out."

"I don't deny who I am -"

"A pathetic, sad excuse for a human? A liar? A whore? Boy, I'd love to be a fly on the wall in your therapist's office..."

"THAT'S NOT FAIR!" he shouted, finally losing whatever cool he had left in him. "You haven't given me the chance to defend myself!"

"And do you deserve it?" she laughed, completely unafraid of the angry man now looming over her. "Can you honestly say you deserve that chance?"

He didn't. He didn't deserve it. He could lie to everyone else, but he couldn't lie to her.

"Get. Out."

Tears rapidly filled his eyes. He wanted to tell her that Lorelei meant nothing to him. He wanted to tell her that nothing mattered to him since the day they first met. He wanted to tell her that every minute of his life spent away from her seemed like a waste, that it physically hurt him not to be able to touch her, to hold her, to look after her. That her face was the first thing he saw when he got up in the morning, the last thing he saw before he slept and even in his dreams he could not escape her. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, with every fiber of his unfortunate being and every ounce of his black, icy soul.

But he didn't. He grabbed his coat and within seconds was gone.

Sif dropped to the floor and cried.


End file.
